


in places deep (where dark things sleep)

by Liu



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Feels, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Sibling Incest, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they agreed to join Thorin's company for the quest, Fili and Kili had not expected to discover more about themselves than the world...</p>
            </blockquote>





	in places deep (where dark things sleep)

In hindsight, Thorin’s misfortune might have been Fili’s luck. If there weren’t so few dwarves willing to risk their lives on this journey, Fili might have never been allowed to come with. He was too young, but they needed more men, and Kili frankly refused to go anywhere without his brother. Sweet merry Kili who could shoot an escaping squirrel without as much as blinking; Fili had no illusions about his own importance to the group. He was the King’s nephew, and the best dwarven scout’s brother, and that was about it. He himself knew how to handle a sword, how to hold his ground in a battle, but he was expendable, unimportant, the unlucky thirteenth companion where twelve would have sufficed.

But as they said, the more – the merrier, and in this case, even a mediocre swordsman was one they could not afford to leave home if they planned to stand before a dragon.

So they took that long, long journey from Ered Luin to the Shire, through places they have never seen before. Everything was a wonder, and every step they took, further from the home which had never been a real home to them, brought excitement as well as anxiety.

The nights settled low and cold over the plains of Eriador, and Fili found himself craving warmth to keep out the chill that was settling in his bones. It was not just the weather – back in Ered Luin, he would have given the proverbial arm and leg to be allowed to go with. Here, in the middle of nowhere, far from one home and even further from the other, out of uncle Thorin’s watchful sight, Fili felt… amazed and horrified at once. In Ered Luin, they did not have much space: the dwarven refugees had to make do with the little room left to them by the mercy (or pity) of the original settlers. Fili and Kili had shared a room since they had been old enough to try and find some work in the city: it was a dark, shabby room with a tiny window, several rats and one creaky bed with a straw mattress, but it had been home for so long that Fili did not know what to do with so much space around him, with the wide plains and wild rivers and the high dome of the sky above his head. It did not feel safe, even as he was standing guard and staring into the darkness where nothing moved, nothing made a sound. It was a calm night, and yet, Fili was restless, fidgeting with the handle of his sword, the buckles of his armor. 

He had not realized how much sound he must have been making until a warm hand settled on his, stilling his fingers for a moment. He looked down, a little sheepish, and smiled at his sleepy brother.

“I am sorry. I will try to keep quiet,” he promised, but all Kili did was shrug and sit up, pulling the thin blanket tightly around himself as he shifted closer, settling with his back against Fili’s knees. 

“I couldn’t sleep either,” Kili muttered, already half-asleep, and Fili smiled at the blatant lie: he carded his fingers through Kili’s dark mane, just like he used to when they had been but little dwarflings, and stared into the darkness again. With the familiar weight of Kili’s body, the empty space all around did not seem so threatening anymore.

……………………………..

Kili was already seventy-seven years old. He was not a child, not by any standards, even though he was not quite an adult either, not in the eyes of the two-hundred-and-something-year-olds in the company. He would have liked to say it was the only reason why he was glad Fili was going with them: but if he were to be completely honest about it (which he wouldn’t, not under a death threat), he would have to admit that he was scared out of his mind when he thought about walking through Eriador and Misty Mountains and who knew where else, to fight a dragon for a place he had never even seen.

Fili made it all better. Thorin and the others might have agreed on this quest to regain the home they have lost: Kili agreed to not lose the only home he had ever known, his uncle and his brother, the two people he would give up his life for. So he gave it up in a sense, left Ered Luin, left the small room they shared with Fili for decades, and stepped into the vastness of the world.

The Shire was surprisingly… green. They found the hobbit’s door pretty soon, and there was food, lots of food, and drinks and songs and then everyone turned serious and talked about the Lonely Mountain, and the hobbit fainted and Kili thought he hadn’t had this much fun in years, always working or practicing his archery.

And yet, what made it all worth it was how content Fili looked during the whole meeting: he had grown, his brother, Kili could see it with every day they were away from Ered Luin. This journey did him good, changed him in all the good ways that picking up second-hand jobs in the Blue Mountains would never allow. Kili didn’t particularly miss Ered Luin: his home was right next to him, with a cheeky grin under his braided blonde mustache. His home collapsed against his chest under the tree where they set up a camp for the night, chuckling and a little tipsy, and let Kili re-braid his mussed hair, humming one song or another under his breath while Kili carefully sectioned and bound the blonde strands.

He hadn’t thought anything much about it: being close to his brother was natural to him, something he’d always done without thinking. Kili couldn’t really say who it was who mentioned off-handedly that he should be careful to not take in too many strange habits on this journey… he couldn’t say which remark about weird elven customs had actually made it clear to him that the older dwarves thought Kili and Fili’s closeness strange.

All he knew was that while Kili snored quietly against his chest, Fili himself couldn’t even close his eyes that night, staring into the darkness and wondering about the precarious, fragile notions of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’.

…………………………………………

“I will watch out for any enemies,” Kili said, and Fili glanced at his brother, worried. It was not uncommon for one of them to keep watch – after all, their eyes were better than those of the older dwarves, and the hobbit seemed to have a bit of trouble keeping watch over himself, much less over the whole camp. 

But Kili had been growing more and more distant in the days they have been on the road, and Fili just could not deal with it any longer. The feeling of quiet suffocation was growing every day Kili was pulling away, and Fili could not take it anymore.

“I’ll come with you,” he offered, and caught Kili’s quick glance at the group. What was that supposed to mean? Fili was none the wiser when Kili shook his head dismissively:

“There’s no need.”

“But you shouldn’t be alone. What if someone manages to ambush you? Plus, we can take turns and get some sleep if we stand watch together,” Fili reasoned, looking over his shoulder at Thorin for approval, but their King was discussing something with Gandalf, and only waved his hand dismissively Fili’s way.

Which was agreement enough for Fili. He put his hand to his brother’s back and maneuvered Kili just outside of the camp, surprised at the lack of resistance. 

“What is wrong?” he asked when they were out of earshot, and the surroundings did not seem to be hiding any imminent danger. Kili blinked at him, seemingly innocent, but Fili had not spent more than seventy years practically raising Kili just to not know falsehood when he saw it in his brother’s eyes.

“Nothing is wrong,” Kili said anyway, and Fili frowned. 

“Brother-“ he started, but Kili turned away, arms around himself, and it took the words right out of Fili’s mouth. Kili seemed… so lost, so young, so alone that it hurt deep down in Fili’s chest to watch his brother. He stepped closer, but Kili’s eyes stopped him mid-way, tormented and dark and distant.

“I think… maybe we have grown too close due to the circumstances of Ered Luin,” Kili said, and that ache in Fili’s chest burned brighter, consuming something important. By the empty feeling that followed, it had been that sense of safety which for Fili meant that his brother was close by. Before he could say anything, Kili continued, and his eyes, serious as never before, threatened to burn Fili to the core.

“It is time we have both thought of our own path.”

Fili did not know what to say in response. He was aware that he was on this quest only thanks to his brother: if it weren’t for Kili, Fili wouldn’t have been even considered, most likely, and definitely not approved. He would still be in Ered Luin… and he wouldn’t feel like someone was gripping his lungs through his ribs. He took a deep breath, and nodded.

“You might be right,” he agreed, even though it sounded hollow even to his own ears as he turned away, staring into the thin forest around them, seeing nothing. “I will take the first watch, then… go get some sleep.”

He did not look back, but he heard the rustling of a thin blanket on fallen leaves, and the sound of someone’s breathing settling into a quiet rhythm. He looked back only when he was sure Kili was asleep. There were leaves tangled into his hair, tucked against the few thin braids that had not been there before. Kili used to leave his hair unbraided, saying it wasn’t wild enough to need any sort of taming – but only Fili knew that when the night had settled over Ered Luin and Kili had had a particularly bad or difficult day, straining his eyes too much over delicate metalwork or too many arrows, Fili would push his fingers into Kili’s hair, press them against his scalp and Kili would sigh and relax and fall asleep under his brother’s soothing touch.

Now, there was a braid where Fili’s fingers had belonged, and Fili couldn’t look away for a long, long time. He did not really keep watch that night, and neither did he dare to wake Kili from his sleep. He was not sure he could stand looking in his brother’s eyes again.

………………………………………..

Rivendell was… more than Kili had expected. Not that he had expected anything: he was never too interested in Elven kingdoms or politics or… anything, really. And yet, here he was, in the hidden valley where few have ever stepped… and he could not find it in himself to appreciate the beauty of the exquisite structures and delicate gardens. Clean and fed, he should have felt much better: but there was something missing, and Kili did not dare to give it much thought. The look on Fili’s face that night when Kili had gathered his courage to say what had been haunting him… he would never forget it, Kili was sure. 

And yet, he couldn’t help but think it was for the best. Fili had been growing ever since they got out of Ered Luin: not physically, but he was becoming… stronger, fiercer, braver. More mature, maybe… more prone to thinking before rushing into battle. More assured in his steps. Kili felt like he was hindering this growth, like the best thing he could do was to keep his distance from Fili. It had been seventy-seven years that Fili had to take care of Kili… now it was Fili’s turn to be important to himself, to take care of himself the best he could. Kili was old enough to cope on his own…

…even if it was sometimes difficult to think without his brother at his side, difficult to draw arrows or see straight.

“I have come to offer supper, but it seems food is not what you are missing, Master Dwarf,” a voice out of nowhere broke Kili’s string of thoughts, and he turned around, half-startled, half-relieved.

It looked like it was the dark-haired elf from when they had arrived: he had a similar soft, pale face and large brown eyes, and he also looked like he was barely an adult – but with elves, it was hard to tell, he could very well be older than the whole dwarven company combined. Kili shrugged, and immediately felt like it was disrespectful somehow: he had no idea how to behave when it came to elves – he had never been around them much, and definitely not in their own territory. Every single move he made felt somehow wrong, like even his presence in this place was spoiling its purity, like he, a mere blacksmith-turned-archer could not be worthy of this much beauty.

Kili wondered if he would feel so out of place if Fili was near: but Fili had so readily agreed to going their separate ways that Kili could not demand otherwise, possibly ever again.

“What weighs so heavy on your heart?” the Elf asked, taking a spot on the stone bench next to Kili. The dwarf could only sigh; he looked at the Elf sideways:

“You are Master Elrond’s advisor, right? Master Lindir?”

The Elf laughed, and it was such a clear and pretty sound that Kili found himself staring. Finally, the chuckles turned into a response:

“You certainly remember my name correctly… though I am no advisor, far from it, actually. I merely have a lover with a very busy schedule, so I prefer running some errands instead of just standing in the corner behind his shoulder.”

The last words went through Kili like a lightning bolt: his? But wasn’t Lindir himself… a man? Shocked, Kili straightened up and stared at the Elf with his mouth slightly open. Lindir merely gave him a wry smile:

“Worry not, Master Dwarf, your virtue is safe near me. I understand your people hold no such habits, and even if you did, my love for Elrond is too deep for me to see anyone else in that light.”

Something in Kili’s chest gave, and he crumpled in on himself, elbows on knees and head hung low, embarrassment warming up his cheeks.

“That… was not what I was thinking. I… didn’t want to be rude.”

“I have no doubts of that, Master… Kili, is that right?” Lindir smiled, and Kili found himself nodding, mesmerized by the elf’s kindness and warmth. He missed it… missed someone smiling at him all the time, missed blonde braids around a wide grin… Kili looked away, swallowing around the tightness in his throat.

“There is someone…” he started, and had to swallow again, since his eyes started burning uncomfortably and his throat was closing, as if it did not wish to allow the words to be spoken in fear they would somehow alter the world around him.

Lindir barely nodded, and did not say anything when Kili remained silent for some time. Finally, he found the strength to continue. Where better to get this pain off his chest that to a stranger, an elf who had seen and heard many things in his life, who could not look judgingly at Kili once they would leave Rivendell?

“I should stay away. We grew too close,” he said quietly, his hands clenching into fists. “I am holding him back.”

He took a sharp breath at that: it was the first time he voiced his innermost fear, the horror of being the one who kept Fili from becoming whatever he wished to be, of being the obnoxious, needy little brother long after his time for being a child had passed. Lindir’s hand was cool and unnaturally soft when it curled around Kili’s fist, a soothing touch and yet, not what Kili longed for.

“Has he told you that?” Lindir asked quietly, and Kili shook his head, sighing. 

“He did not have to. I can see it… he could be so much more than he believes…”

Lindir let go of his hand just to touch his shoulder, and Kili looked up at him, suddenly filled with so much pain and longing and hope that this centuries-old elf could know the answer, that all those emotions broke the surface, caught in his throat and stung in his eyes.

“Has it occurred to you,” the elf spoke softly, “that ‘more’ without you might not be what he wishes for?”

Kili swallowed again, glancing at Lindir, and he could read so much in that one soft smile that he stood up abruptly, taking a step or two back, away from the elf’s knowing eyes. 

“It’s… not like that,” he stammered and fled, like the filthy coward he was, wishing they would leave this place soon enough, the place where every tree, every stone seemed to be taunting him, whispering the things he was terrified to even think about.

………………………………………………….

Fili tended to his sword with a solemn set to his shoulders and a scowl creasing his brow. They had entered the Misty Mountains just a few hours before setting up camp: fleeing Rivendell had seemed like a good idea at that time when Thorin was talking heatedly about the Elves’ inability to understand the importance of their journey… but up to their knees in snow and caught in a blizzard, their prospects seemed bleak at best.

And that was just one more large drop in the sea of Fili’s uneasiness. Snow, he could deal with, even if the sudden discomfort came as quite a shock after the luxuries of Rivendell. What bothered the young dwarf much more was Kili’s distant behavior. Where before he had been at least civil, if less amiable, now he seemed to be avoiding Fili at all costs, and it cut right down to Fili’s core. There was coldness where before warmth had resided, and it had nothing to do with the frozen air of the Misty Mountains.

He did his best to not think about it too much; Kili had made it clear that he wished for his own path of life, one not entwined so tightly with Fili’s. But it was difficult, keeping his distance where before he would have touched and laughed and teased, and it made Fili rather miserable. So he took step after step, treaded through snow and rocks and nasty weather, and wondered what awaited them in the future… and if maybe Kili would change his mind in the end.

Then, the stone giants appeared, and Thorin was screaming Kili’s name over the deafening sound of rocks smashing, and all Fili could see was his brother plummeting towards certain death. When Kili turned up alive, Fili pulled him into an embrace without words, one hand gripping his brother’s shoulders tightly and the other finding a way into dark, damp hair. Kili tensed, for but a moment, though he melted into the touch quickly enough for Fili to disregard it completely. The important thing was that Kili had not pulled away, that he had not died, that he was shivering in Fili’s arms, his fingers buried in the fur of Fili’s coat and his breath brushing Fili’s ear. Yes, Kili was very much alive… and that was what mattered.

Hours later, Fili was sitting watch so the others could sleep: at least that was what he was supposed to do. Somehow, he was reluctant to look outside of the small cave they’d found earlier - instead, he watched Kili not far from him, mouth slightly open as the young dwarf slept off the weariness of the journey. Fili’s eyes followed the steady rise and fall of his brother’s chest, and his own heart tightened here and there at the memory of how close he’d come to losing Kili once and for all. 

Eventually Bofur came to relieve Fili of the watch duty, and Fili was free to go lie down. Without thinking (or maybe stubbornly refusing to think), he settled down next to Kili. The inviting warmth of his brother’s living, breathing body posed too much of a temptation, and Fili wondered if Kili was maybe right that they had grown too close… but for now, all he wanted was to be reassured constantly of the fact that Kili was alive. So Fili turned to his side and pulled his blanket over both of them, curling his arm around Kili’s waist. For a moment, he could feel Kili tense again – then, Kili’s hand slowly, almost reluctantly slid over Fili’s own, keeping it in place for the night. Fili closed his eyes to get some sleep, but he could not keep a small smile from his lips.

……………………..

“I thought we would die for sure,” Kili breathed out, his body still vibrating with excitement and maybe a little bit of horror. The goblins, the orcs and wargs, then the eagles… it had been too much at once, not at all what Kili had expected out of this quest, and through it all, Fili had been near, his sword cutting through air and enemies and Kili’s doubts, giving him courage to take another step towards their goal.

Even Thorin had survived: the Hobbit had jumped in front of the king with courage worthy of the mightiest of the dwarven ancestors, and Kili found himself shamed in the face of such reckless bravery. Not because he did not stand in front of his uncle, his King… but because he had not stood at his brother’s side, for fear of what the others might think.

“Me too,” Fili agreed, and a low chuckle rumbled from underneath his beard. Kili smiled at the way that sound resonated deep within his own chest, as if it was trying to tell him something about and then sighed, thinking back to Lindir’s words. What Fili might wish for… it should not feel so difficult to just ask…

“The others,” Kili started eventually, careful to keep his eyes averted so he would not lose courage to say what was on his mind, “they might – no, they do think we are too close. In a… strange way.”

Fili’s response was awful silence, and in the end, Kili could not bear it. He had to look, he had to see Fili’s disgust or horror with his own eyes. He turned, but all he saw was Fili’s slightly raised eyebrow, as if what Kili had just said was not shocking at all.

“Do you understand, brother?” Kili asked, throat already tightening around the words that were difficult even as a thought, colored with the memory of Lindir’s knowing gaze and with the darkest things that might have resided in Kili’s heart. “They think we… do things. That brothers never do.”

“So let them,” Fili said, and Kili’s heart skipped in fear and sweet confusion. Fili was frowning a little, standing in front of Kili proud and unwavering, remindful of a strong oak which could withstand all the storms. Kili had always felt safe near his brother… but right now, the storm was in his own mind.

“Let them think what they will,” Fili repeated as he came closer, and his glove brushed back a few strands of dark hair from Kili’s eyes. Kili remembered the traitorous warmth that had seeped into his back even through his armor that night before they had been captured by the goblins; the warmth of Fili’s chest pressed close, the safety that had come from that familiar hand over Kili’s chest that he’d held close through the night like it could guide him to the right path. 

“We might die on this quest,” Fili said, somber as he rarely was, determination and defiance pouring off him in steady waves, “and I will not lose you before death claims us.”

Kili’s eyes burned as he embraced his brother with fierceness reserved for the reunions of the long lost; it was so much like Fili to let his heart speak instead of his head, to make even the most difficult of tasks seem simple.

And possibly, it was just that Fili made those trials worth the effort – it certainly seemed so when Kili breathed in the earthy, familiar scent as he buried his face in Fili’s hair, holding him close. He turned his head to whisper his agreement, and his lips brushed the shell of Fili’s ear. Kili could feel the shiver that ran through his brother’s body in his arms, and he swallowed, thinking of Lindir and ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. With the way this quest was going, they might not have much time left… and if Fili could be brave enough to face the wrong that made them both feel whole… then Kili could try. 

He pulled away slightly: there was no disgust or fear in Fili’s face, just curiosity. Kili leaned in, twitchy and half-willing himself to pull away: Fili met him halfway there, his beard brushing Kili’s chin, and their lips pressed together through terrified, relieved sighs. It felt like coming home, after years and years of being close, but never close enough. Fili’s deft fingers undid the remains of a thin braid in Kili’s hair; Kili’s hands tangled in the silky mass of Fili’s beard, keeping him close.

And in that brief moment, Kili understood why uncle Thorin was chasing after the past glory of the Lonely Mountain so fiercely: if this was what it felt like to have something absolutely, doubtlessly right, in spite of how many people thought it wrong, then it was worth fighting for… and possibly dying for. 

But until then, they had each other, brother to brother and more.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so I was full of feels after seeing The Hobbit, and as such, was easily pressured into writing a fanfic. I suspect the facts don't add up and it's horribly rushed, but I seriously can't be bothered right now, the fangirl-feels just had to go SOMEWHERE. Maybe I'll write something actually coherent for the pairing later.


End file.
